#this is my sisyphean task

[tormie-tormie-chopper]

god has punished me for my queuebris and my work is never finished

[bloomburnburial]

i think people should talk more about the unique sense of hopelessness which stems from the realization that “help” in the form myth promised you does not exist; there is no help coming and you must create from scratch the tools that will dismantle (or at least diminish) your own suffering, and do this not once but every day for the rest of your life

[verflares]

(pre-calam) filling the compendium :-)

+ closeup and the aftermath

[bell-goat]

*crawls out of the grave, slaps this down and crawls back in without comment*

( Outfit ID is 2624062 )

[crowfatherd]

sillies

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I don't care how much you hate me - you need to eat!"

DickTim during Bruce's Lost In Time phase but with Dick stopping Tim from leaving💕

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

fucked up DickTim during Bruce's lost in time era my beloved. this is 2k of *very* dead dove DickTim, with one-sided feelings from Dick and unreliable narrator vibes. it is a smidge OOC, just bc of how dark Dick gets, but i think i kept it best i could. enjoy <3

It wasn’t supposed to go this far.

Dick thought he was doing this to honor Bruce. The last thing Bruce would’ve wanted was to see Tim drive himself over the edge and go too far, all for a fruitless chase to bring Bruce back from the dead. And sure, maybe deep down Dick knew he reflected some of Bruce’s worst traits. The obsessive control. The worrying to the point of being overbearing.

It came with the capes and spandex territory. Especially now that Dick had decided to man up and put on that damned cowl.

But even at Bruce’s worst, Dick was pretty sure he wouldn’t dare go this far.

Dick knew it was wrong. What he didn’t know was why he couldn’t stop himself. Why the gnawing guilt was so easy to compartmentalize and why every good point Tim had got ignored by Dick’s logical side, brushed off by one simple mantra.

He was doing this for Tim’s own good.

All of this was to protect Tim from doing something he would regret.

Dick had done brain scans, had Tim magically checked up, and even managed to get him to properly talk to a psychiatrist. Everything came back normal. Tim was perfectly healthy.

So maybe this was something that had always been a part of Tim. Maybe it was a bad idea for any of them to have let Tim into the vigilante world so young.

Some people could handle it. Some people couldn’t. Dick had seen firsthand how it broke minds and ruined lives. He’d seen people turn to drugs, cults, murder, and god knew what else just to try to cope with it.

That didn’t make Tim weak. Tim Drake was the furthest thing from weak, and Dick would fight anyone on that.

This was just a hard life to cope with. Sometimes, people needed support through the worst of it.

That’s what Dick was doing.

Giving support.

“I don’t care how much you hate me- you need to eat!” Dick stepped back, dodging Tim’s attempt to kick his feet out. The bowl of salad Dick had set next to Tim was completely ignored.

Dick had learned not to give Tim hot food after Tim flung potato soup at his head the first time, chunks of potato stuck to his hair.

Tim’s scowl was lethal. Technically, he wasn’t restrained. He could move freely around the manor and do whatever he wanted.

It was the shock collar that kept him from leaving the grounds or breaking into the Batcave.

Dick had decided that would be the most humane way. The shock was only momentarily painful, it was designed to knock Tim unconscious if he tried to get somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. The collar had taken three tries before Dick found a lock Tim couldn’t pick, and a few more unfortunate incidents of Tim finding weak spots in the barrier.

But Dick always found Tim and brought him back home.

That was what was important.

The fact Tim kept trying to break out and go to god knew where on some fruitless quest to find a dead man made Dick more secure about this decision.

He was doing this to protect Tim. Once Tim worked through the worst of his grief, all this would be in the past. Something they would laugh at.

Hopefully.

It was like one of Tim’s contingency plans. Really, he of all people should understand.

But he didn’t. Which was what hurt Dick the most, the angry look in Tim’s eyes and the way his fists clenched when Dick came into Tim’s room. Tim had access to the whole manor, but he stuck mostly to his room, refusing to talk to anyone.

Especially Dick.

And now, it seemed, his latest tactic was a hunger strike.

“I’ll let you look over the burglary case we’re working on,” Dick offered. “I’ll bring you all the files and your computer if you just…” he gestured to the salad, “eat something.”

That had worked, in the beginning. Dick could coax good behavior out of Tim by offering to let Tim help with whatever case Dick was facing. It took a load off of Dick’s back and gave Tim something to focus on.

Of course, Dick couldn’t leave Tim’s computer with him. The first time Dick did that, Tim managed to break all of the firewalls and safeties put on it to start a case file about Bruce. Dick had to delete everything and only allow Tim monitored access from that point on.

After that, Tim really didn’t like Dick.

“Can’t you just go back to ignoring me?” Tim snapped. He sounded… resigned. Emotionless in a way he hadn’t been, like all the fight he’d been putting up for weeks was finally going out.

“Ignoring you?” Dick frowned. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut at the words. He kept a wide berth from Tim, wary of more punches being thrown, and decided to sit at Tim’s desk chair, a good few feet from where Tim was on his bed. “What makes you think I’m ignoring you?”

Tim scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You only talk to me to ask if I’ve dropped the Bruce thing yet, or to try to force self-care on me. The rest of the time you ignore me so you don’t have to face your own guilt.”

Dick violently shook his head. “That’s not-” he sighed, running a hand over his face- “I’m just busy, I promise. Between being Batman, managing Bruce’s estate, and trying to handle Damian, I just…” his voice trailed off. So many things to balance. He still didn’t know how Bruce managed it all. “I haven’t made enough time for you. I’m sorry.”

He decided to take on the burden of helping Tim. It was his responsibility and Tim was right, Dick was doing a piss poor job of taking care of him.

No wonder he pushed away Dick’s attempts to reconcile. It must’ve come across as half-assed, in Tim’s eyes.

Dick wished Bruce was here. He would’ve known the right way to handle this.

“Don’t start now,” Tim said icily. He picked up a book from his nightstand and opened it, pointedly not looking at Dick anymore. “Just leave me alone.”

“Will you eat first?” Dick asked. “If you just eat, I’ll go. I promise.”

With a loud sigh, Tim snapped his book shut. He picked up the salad Dick brought and shoveled down mouthfuls, all while glaring at Dick. Once the bowl was empty he set it back down and spread his hands, waiting.

Dick didn’t leave.

He wasn’t going to abandon Tim.

Dick stood up and Tim relaxed for just a moment before he realized Dick was walking toward Tim’s bed instead of the door. Slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal, Dick crept forward. He chose to sit on the foot of the bed, still far enough away from Tim to give him personal space.

“Tim-”

“Out. Now. You promised.”

Dick ran his fingers through his hair. “I know, but-”

“What do you want from me?” Tim almost yelled the words. “Do you want me to just say I don’t believe Bruce is alive? Will you finally leave me alone, then?”

“Can you say it under a truth serum?”

Tim went quiet, grinding his jaw.

“I want you to get better,” Dick sighed.

“What happens when I get better, then?” Tim challenged. He moved to sit cross-legged on the bed. So close to Dick that Dick could reach out and touch him, but emotionally, they were miles apart and it hurt Dick’s chest. “You ‘fix me’-” he put finger quotes around the words- “to your liking, then set me free?”

“Don’t talk about yourself like you’re an animal.” Dick frowned, fist clenching at the idea Tim thought of himself that way.

Tim just stared at him. “Then don’t treat me like one.” He raised a hand and tapped the collar.

It looked like it had new scratch marks on it.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dick said. He tried to find the words. It was so hard to explain it when Tim wasn’t listening to him. He wasn’t even given a chance. Dick tried to reach out. For once, Tim didn’t pull away. He was completely rigid under Dick’s touch, though. His hand rested on Tim’s arm, thumb stroking back and forth. “You know I’m doing this because… because I’m worried about you. And I care, Tim.”

“No you don’t,” Tim leaned away from Dick, but didn’t pull his arm free. “Whatever version of me exists in your head-”

“Tim-”

“-isn’t real,” Tim ignored him and kept going. “You won’t even listen to my theory-”

“Tim!” Dick tightened his grip, ignoring the small wince of pain that came out of Tim. “I’m not entertaining that kind of talk.” He tried to be firm but loving with his tone. But even Dick could hear the anger and frustration that was bleeding off of him. “This is practically self harm.”

“I know I’m right,” Tim mumbled. He wouldn’t look at Dick. “Will you just leave, now?”

Against his better judgment, Dick stood up. He had to patrol soon. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk after-”

“I’m going to sleep,” Tim snapped. “No, we won’t.”

Dick tried to throw his hands up in frustration, but he was still holding onto Tim’s arm.

He didn’t want to let go.

He knew Tim was waiting for him to let go, but Dick couldn’t force his fingers to release. He just stared for a moment, breathing hard.

Dick was doing this out of love.

And now, he loved Tim too much to want to let go of him.

Did he have to patrol tonight? He was pretty sure the Birds of Prey were in Gotham.

“Dick,” Tim said carefully, starting to scoot away from him. The apprehension in his voice was unsteady, eyes narrowed. He was always too on edge. “I’m tired. Just go on patrol.”

Instead of letting go, Dick lifted his other hand and held Tim’s face. Tim flinched but stopped inching away. He was completely still, barely even breathing.

He looked afraid of Dick.

Dick’s chest clenched. He wished he could get Tim to understand. Dick leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tim’s forehead.

He wanted to kiss somewhere else, somewhere a few inches lower and just as unobtainable. That was a feeling Dick buried deep, deep inside of him.

It wasn’t why he was doing this.

A hand pressed against Dick’s chest. Trying to push Dick away, but for just a moment, the pressure and warmth almost made Dick shudder. Tim hadn’t properly trained in a while.

He wasn’t actually strong enough to push Dick off of him. If Dick wanted to, Tim couldn’t have stopped him.

But their relationship was already fractured. It would take a long time of repairing and letting Tim heal before Dick could even try pursuing those feelings.

Tim had once had a childhood crush on Dick, though. So he was pretty sure they could work their way up to it, be something more.

Dick pulled away. He let go of Tim’s arm and allowed himself one stroke of Tim’s hair. It was getting a little long, brushing against Tim’s shoulders.

The entire time, Tim remained perfectly still. But his eyes got wider and wider, the way they always did when he had just figured out a case.

Dick was getting too close. He needed to pull back.

“You still have the spare comm link?” Dick asked.

Tim didn’t answer. He just kept staring with those wide, searching eyes. He looked a little pale. Dick should get him some iron supplements, Tim becoming anemic is the last thing Dick wanted.

“Use it if you need me for anything,” Dick continued. He gave Tim what he hoped was a calming smile. “Get some sleep, Tim. I love you.”

He turned and walked out of Tim’s room. Slowed to crawl at a snail’s pace, hoping for an answer from Tim. He would take any kind of answer.

But Tim kept silent, even as Dick took his time intentionally, slowly closing the door. Dick just sighed, turning down the hall to head down to the Batcave.

Someday, he’d get through to Tim. Dick would find a way.

Someday soon.

[dreamingdeadly]

freaky bathroom

[gauntlings]

hey how much do you think rebecca actually relates to A, especially if you're romancing them. do you think rebecca empathizes because looking at A is like looking in a mirror. rebecca tells the detective how much they remind her of rook, and her greatest fear is losing her child like she lost her husband. in that scenario, wouldnt that make A the most like rebecca?

the way rebecca can express love verbally, in sentiment (sometimes), but how deeply she struggles to show it. do you think rebecca sees her child in pain -- at the hands of someone who always keeps the detective at arms length, just like she did.

do you think some part of her wants to hate A for it, but never could. because maybe it is selfish, maybe it is hypocritical. because she cannot hope to be forgiven if she cannot forgive in kind. even if it means forgiving the one who is actively hurting her child the most. having to justify (as she always justifies) that it, horrifyingly, comes from a place of love.

[jonsaremembers]

do you think they will ever have children

I doubt it.

Phil has said he's not ruled it out, and who knows what Dan thinks (bc I don't trust that DD is a complete and accurate picture of his actual feelings on the subject), but I just don't see them choosing to add that layer to what are already two very happy and fulfilled lives. Not to mention, it seems like they value their freedom and spontaneity and REST after spending the better part of their respective twenties hustling and on edge, and I don't blame them for deciding that having kids would cramp that style - because it would.

I do think they would each make great dads. But even if you know in your heart you'd be a good parent, it's okay to save that energy to play an aunt/uncle role instead. As a parent myself, I promise we always need more of those around us.

[firethekitty]

trimax panels that make me fucking crazy part 1

[romcomxb]

Sisyphus

It is good to work the dumb, obsessive muscles. Exertion draws the mind from hope to a more tangible object. To live is to relive This can only work when there is an object to push , cursive and recursive, up the hill, when you hope this draws

to no close a day withdraws, but will replay in dreams. You live in hope of dream-work, it’s regressive, infinite object.

[bolkonskaya]

i’ve been thinking about that ‘i can’t believe pierre bezukhov was written by a man’ post that was going around and i think there’s something to be said about just how many people see him as their ‘uwu soft boy’ when, to say the least, he is a much more nuanced character. it’s what makes his character interesting imo but people need to be more critical of him. i know that he’s a fictional character and perhaps i’m reading too deeply into this but it’s always the people who heavily criticise a lot of the female characters but do not hold the men to the same standard. Idk

[katerinaaqu]

A little question out of the usual norm.

I was looking around the myth of Sisyphus and idk it’s ok if you could analyze his name and his brother’s Salmoneus a bit? I searched it up on Wikipedia so i do not know if the brother’s name is correct 😅

Of course let's see this is challenging, especially the latter hahaha 😆 but let's see.

For Sisyphus (Σίσυφος) Liddell seems to be speaking of the word σοφός (sofós) which means "wise" in Greek. The word seems to be depriving, according to him, from Aeolic Greek old dialect that uses Υ instead of Ο thus writing Σίσυφος instead of Σίσοφος so he says in his entry "prob. a redupl. from σοφός" in his entry. He supports his claim by citing the Iliad that names Sisyphus as "the craftiest of men"

Now I believe you also refer to a cited alternative to be coming from σίσυς (sìsys) which stands for "goat skin" by Gruppe. It could be a possible scenario as well although I am not aware of Sisyphus being linked to a myth involving a goat (see for example Aegisthus) so I am not entirely sure how this connects him to the name but yeah both are to the table. If you use Homer as a starting point I guess the first one seems more likely.

Now Salmoneus (Σαλμονεύς) is a tricky one hahaha 😆 honestly I went down a rabbit hole of names and meanings from Greek till ancient Hebrew like Salmos or Solomon (which deprives from shalom which means "peace" in hebrew) and some Turkish roots which are known that they had loaned words from greek and of course vise-versa (for example in modern day Greek we do use the term from Turkish σαλματζής -> salmantzís which means roughly "a guy that runs from one lady to another" or someone who is irresponsible)

hahaha 😆 😂 the closest thing I can find to it (and take it with a small grain of salt) comes, ironically, from the name of salmon fish! 😄 and bear with me for one second haha.

The name "salmon" comes from various roots including "salmo" which seems to deprive from the verb "salire" which means "to leap" or "to climb". That on its own has the root to the adjective "salient" which has unclear roots but one of them seems to be the verb "ἅλλομαι" (állomae with the accent to the front also giving the ancient greek sound hállomae) which also means "to leap" or "to ascend" or "to climb"

So lo and behold my very first etymological entry in this world hahaha 😆 to play the scientist! "Salmoneus" potentially comes from "ἅλλομαι" which means "to climb" or "to ascend"

So "Sisyphus" roughly translates to "the one who is wise" and "Salmoneus" to "the one who ascends"

My contribution to science 😆

[matriphagia]

I actually caught myself thinking "I kinda miss high school" NO YOU DON'T FAGGOT ‼️ YOU WOULDN'T LAST A DAY IF YOU WENT BACK STOP LYING TO YOURSELF ‼️

[vulfura]

My fourth hellish attempt at a disco elysium style portrait. It’s never enough

[twinprime]

played back a recording of myself speaking spanish and humbled myself so bad. why the hell do i have a stronger valley girl accent in spanish than in english